I See, You See, We Don't See
by CyKiESuMMerS
Summary: CHAPTER 3 UPDATED. READ IT AND REVIEW PLZ!  A tiny quarrel becomes serious in an accidental turn of events. What does Emma Frost have to do w it?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: A new thing I'm trying out, enjoy and please let me know what you think!

A few middle aged men in white lab coats stood around a metal table, where a young man laid, immobile and strapped down. The scientists and doctors looked down at him impersonally and spoke to one another in professional and crisp tones, regarding what seemed to be a specimen to them.

A young girl stood among them, young and slim, slender even underneath her white lab coat. She had high and hollow cheek bones and cold, clear, and icy blue eyes. The most amazing asset though, was her hair, platinum, hay-like, sparkling cider or ale and shimmering in the very dull lights in the vast and dimmed medical room or some sort of science lab they were in.

She checked the machines next to the table, adjusted some dials and read his pulses. A doctor nodded, "Thank you Ms. Frost, we have stabilized the x-chromosome mutant, your father should be pleased by our potential findings.

Our reports confirm all of our evaluations and the percentages in our statistics are extraordinary. Where shall we sign the contract with your father's corporation?"

The girl, Frost, let her cold eyes flicker to the boy on the table, who appeared comatose or even dead. The nude and stripped boy laid still, skin tan and healthy and pulsing faintly, some marks of struggle and violence damaged his leg and torso; he was very fit and looked strong. Body type was lean/muscular and she found no flaws or abnormalities.

The wounds were cleaned and sterilized and cotton was taped and bandaged to appropriate gashes. A bandage stuck near his left temple, under the healthy and thick, neatly cut brown hair.

He looked asleep even, like a healthy and normal boy and the only thing that hinted of abnormal or mutated, or distinctly alien, was the slim visor with a ruby slash through it, strapped to his handsomely sculpted face.

A dull spark of recognition might've registered, but her stony face stayed frozen and professional. She began, "I assure you my father has no objections to a dissection or medically advanced check up on the subject. Although, regarding-."

Scott's nerves flared as he took in the scene before him, as an outsider. He relaxed his muscles and did not betray his awakening. There was a cold draft in the room he was in, and he tried not to shiver as the cold metal touched his uncovered skin, the scratchy cotton uniform boxers did not provide much protection from the coldness of the sterile room.

An orb of light was shining down on him and he tensed his muscles under the binds he was in. He saw people he didn't know, the people who had tortured him and kidnapped him from a field mission he was leading. They injected several syringes into him, calming his senses so he felt helplessly sedated.

Now they were discussing him like he was some creature, not a boy. There was a feminine voice somewhere in that and soon he could feel the girl's presence next to his head, but he dared not to turn or even look in that direction if he wanted to find out what was going on without being sedated and knocked out again. He captured words like dissection and he knew they were implied to him. With carefully trained reflexes and senses, he reacted.

The scientists and doctors murmured in reaction to Ms. Frost's proposal and hardly a second later, there was a deafening crash and slamming sound as the body on the table sprang up and with highly skilled maneuvers as well as muscle, sent several men flying backwards, in motions so fast and rapid that they were hardly seen.

Some machinery was flung around and the men were running around, yelling into radios. Scott swung swiftly off the table, grabbed a scalpel knife from a surgical tool tray in the same fluid motion, and grabbed the girl blindly, pressing her slender back tightly to his bare chest, rather roughly, and pressed the cold blade to her neck. He had his muscle-laden, slim arm around her, in a choke hold, and the knife threatening in front of them.

The doctors and scientists backed up, gaping, gabbering into the radio of a wild subject that needed retaining. He gruffly shouted, "I'll kill her." The girl shuddered in his tight hold and whispered inaudibly, "I don't think you know what I am capable of Summers. Let me go you fool, you ruffian, do you even know who I am?" He looked down briskly at her, heart pounding under her back, "How do you know my name? Who are you and who is your father?"

He edged back towards an exit with the girl tightly refrained. Security alarms flashed and sounded noisily and security came marching in with guns aimed at them.

The doctors yelled, "Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's got Ms. Frost as hostage!"

Scott quickly turned and sprinted, half-carrying the girl who finally started struggling and fighting back. He elbowed some guards in the hall ways, slamming them against the walls and kicking a few out of the way.

He fought through them, punching one squarely away from him and Frost. They chased behind and he gripped the knife tightly.

He found a hall with an exit to the outside and he turned swiftly with the girl in front of him, and the guards halted in confusion. Scott lowered his visor lens and let a flood of red light and optic beams blast the whole building apart, before turning to run out.

He was surprised to find cold snow hit his bare feet, and the chilly air outside chilled his bare skin. He was surrounded in the dark by tall pine trees and forest. He spotted a row of snow mobiles, and seated on them, were more guards, following him outside. He ran towards the nearest one, and with the girl screaming in his arms and twisting to face him and claw at his chest, he slugged a guard off of the roaring snowmobile, knocking off his helmet and placing it on the girl's head.

She bellowed, "YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! LISTEN TO ME! THIS IS A SUICIDAL THING TO DO, YOU CANNOT TAKE ME! MY FATHER WILL FIND OUT AND-GUARDS HELP YOU WORTHLESS-!"

He started up the engine and accelerated jerkily away from the guards, shooting them off of their snowmobiles with his beams. He could hardly feel the cold stinging him and whipping around him as he blasted through the snow, a beam of light from headlights lighting the snowy path he rushed down.

There was twisting and writhing on his chest, but he couldn't feel the pain of claws to his bare skin anymore, or the beating fists and legs.

All he felt was the tingle of adrenaline under his skin. He finally had to rest the motor at a clearing of snow hidden by trees.

He turned off the motor and rested back for a minute before being slapped back into reality by the still-fighting, and rather strong girl in his arms. She got the better of him and managed to free an arm.

He kept a hold on her and tackled her down to the snow, off the snowmobile with him. His arms were getting sore but he didn't loosen his grasp on her. With them around her, pinned to the ground, he was able to put her back in a still hold.

Her cheeks were flustered and rosy by the coldness of the night, and realizing how futile her fight was, broke down and sank into his arms helplessly and resentfully.

"Really, I will kill you, I still have the knife on your pulse, if you move, I won't hesitate. Just stay still if you want to live, we can't go anywhere now so just cooperate until I get some help."

She seethed and looked down, resting her face to his neck, muttering,

"This is abduction, you will not go unpunished for this. I will personally see to it." Scott coolly asked, "Why are you participating in this sort of exploitation? Someone as young as you? This is corrupt and twisted, who were those people, what are you and what do you want from me?"

They were twisted in an awkwardly compromising position; they'd have looked like lovers if it weren't for the hatred flowing from each and Frost trying to wrench herself free of the steel grip.

She faced him as they lay on the ground, tightly locked in his strong arms, her face pressed against his chest and neck. His face was just above her hair, expressionless.

If he was cold in the snow, mostly nude, he tried hard not to show it, remaining cold himself.

She spat out, "I cannot and will not answer your questions. You do have a right I suppose, to know though, you are a part of a confidential organization and an operation that may help mankind. Good job, you just sabotaged everything I stand for, I could have even helped you."

She shivered and her shudders did not go unnoticed as Scott hugged her closer, warming her up and still using his monotone, unbroken, "How do you intend to help mankind by cutting people up? I heard what you were talking about back there, tell me, was I supposed to remain alive during this so-called dissection? I think you should understand why it is that I had to do what I did right then. Mutants are not monsters, we are living people, yes, you know my name, I am a person, Scott Summers. It seems to me like you're the monster here, nameless and frigid. I must be older than you, yet you're making the ultimate decisions over my life. Do you hear my voice? A human boy's voice? Ever thought about it? Do you never see your subjects awake and conscious? Is it easier when they're out cold?" Her lab coat had been torn off at some point in the action and she was only wearing a skintight, metallic blue body suit of some sort. It was the same as being naked, as the material was so thin and bare.

She shuddered more and he hugged her even closer until she felt the warmth of his escaping body heat. She smirked irrelevantly though, "You are certainly not older than I. I'd say respect your elders, but obviously you do not know manners."

After some prolonged silence, Scott felt the girl sink into sleep and relax against his body, in slumber.

Scott felt the blunt of the cold ground and weather, but focused on the source of warmth between them. He scanned his mental channels and sent out a signal to the Professor, like he'd been trained to do. After a while in the cold night, with ominous sounds from nature, and the only light coming from the snowmobile, the professor responded and assured

Scott that they would pick him up from his location as soon as possible.

Scott tensed and kept alert by reminding himself of the stinging coldness and the mystery girl in his arms, who nestled against him for warmth.

By the crack of dawn, with dark shadows underneath his eyes under the visors, he had fallen asleep and the lens no longer glowed with wakeful eyes. His head rested above the girl's and he slept against her as well.

Soon the black hawk was over them, and descended smoothly next to them, a platform slid out and mutants rushed out in aid, waking both hostages up.

A red headed girl in a uniform dashed out and called out, "Scott! Are you okay?" She and a burly older man with claws protruding from his fist stopped in confusion at the sight of their young leader apparently nude and entangled in an embrace with a pretty blonde who wore a skin tight blue suit. Wolverine growled, "What the hell, Slim, we thought you were in deep trouble."

Jean did not speak, as she fixated her eyes to the pair on the snow. Scott stood up warily, shivering and rubbing his sore arms and cold nudity.

In just a pair of white cotton boxers, he looked frozen, except the heat spots on his chest and torso and leg fronts. He extended a hand to the girl who cautiously got up herself and glared at everyone. Scott staggered behind her and took her arm, leading her to the jet toward his teammates.

They stared curiously at them, and as Scott made his way up to the quarters, he filled them in on his situation. He greeted the professor, who looked dully concerned. A thermal blanket was thrown over Scott and he sat in a heated section of the jet and the girl was seated next to him, with a blanket as well. They were handed thermoses of hot chocolate, which the girl simply used to warm up her hands.

Charles spoke, "Ms. Frost, the circumstances are not at the best, but we welcome you aboard, and promise no harm. This is not the first time we have met, and I wish we might have reunited another way, but I am still pleased to see you again, as well as Scott, I'm sure."

The redhead, Jean, sat across from them and continued the conversation, "You have all met before? Even Scott?" Scott looked slightly bewildered but then nodded slowly.

He turned to Frost and said tonelessly, "Of course, you are Emma Frost. I did recognize the name, that voice. I have a good memory despite what I couldn't see. Jean, I've never seen her in my life, but I've met her before."

"This is Emma Frost? The infamous Emma Frost? You talked about her all the time like you'd never see her again, like she died or something. I've heard so much about you."

Emma coldly looked over the girl across from her and merely smiled blankly.

Wolverine cleared his voice, "We've got Storm waiting back at the launch pad I guess we should let her know that she's got to make room for another guest today."

Emma sharply looked at the Professor, "Charles, I will have you know that I am not voluntarily staying with the Xavier Institute, I was forced from my own base, by this-this juvenile delinquent, I was kidnapped by Mr. Summers, if you would just let me go, I will be on my way. I have several complicated phone calls to make now."

She glared pointedly at Scott who lifted a silky eyebrow and he was about to retort when the professor responded, "Ms. Frost, I understand there are many difficulties in our situation right now and opposing intentions, but as you may recall, our own Mr. Summers was the hostage prior to his escape and your abduction. Was it not you or your alliances that had Scott here taken down and kidnapped? He was unwillingly a prisoner to something we have not yet been able to find out more about. Perhaps, as an obligation, you might be able to help us figure out more of where you came from and what was meant in the harm Scott had befallen to? I do not think it necessary right now to bring up voluntary or involuntary rights."

Jean clenched a fist and leaned forward towards Scott, placing a concerned hand on his arm, "Oh, Scott, are you okay? I was-I mean, we were so worried about you." She stared into his face and continued, "What happened there? What did they put you through? I-I was afraid I wouldn't be able to see you again."

Emma smirked beseechingly at Jean for a split second before turning her attention back to Charles, "Of course, I think I understand what you mean about whether or not I have a choice as of now, but I would also say due to the civil nature of this, that our circumstances were different. Mr. Summers was simply a test subject at our intensive research unit and I am here now, on a certain different level of respect and of course, nature."

Charles sighed, "Ah, Ms. Frost, so you have treated my pupil like a mutant animal, and you feel as if this abduction you are going through now, is more civil and also less fair than the one Scott went through?"

Wolverine was heard muttering, "Bitch."

Jean glared harshly at Emma and without taking her glare off of her, spoke to the professor, "Professor, Scott is not some animal they can just experiment on! This girl is implying she's better isn't she? So she deserves better treatment than she gave to Scott."

She spoke directly to Emma, "Well, listen, heiress or not or whatever you are, we all know the truth! I don't know why you're hiding it, but I know this story only because it was an important part of Scott's life at one point and he already knows. You were the mutant girl who was with him as part of Generation X! You were in almost exactly the same situation back then WITH him, you were a prisoner of sick people who held mutants hostage to experiment and do sick things to them! And Scott helped you then as he did now! You're exactly the same as us, being a mutant is nothing to look down upon!"

Scott muttered, "She helped me too, I mean back then…"

Emma did not break her icy stare, "I was not implying that I am better than him as a non-mutant, I never hid the fact I was a mutant except from my colleagues, I was only implying that I am on a different level as a human and a mutant and above all else, a person. It is not that difficult to grasp."

Jean roared, "How could you do the same thing to others that you went through? What you and Scott went through was horrible, why would you do that again to him, and to others? How horrible are you?"

Emma cocked a brow and said calmly, "Apparently to your outrageously unsubtle brain waves, I am quite horrible. Have some discretion, I am much more than a 'stone cold bitch who deserves to be shot'."

Jean's cheeks went slightly pink but she calmed down as the professor broke in, "Ladies, let us not forget that both our new companions, regardless of background and alliances, have gone through a tremendous amount of trauma and are exhausted right now. We teach mutuality and cooperative peace."

Wolverine snorted and went back to look at the panels.

When they arrived back at the mansion, Scott was told to escort Emma to a guest bedroom and both were told to shower and clean and get dressed for rest. Despite Jean's persistence and refusal at letting Scott alone with his former captor, the professor firmly stated it would have to be Scott to watch over her now and show her civil kindness and hospitality as a guest.

When Scott was done showering and getting dressed, he waited patiently outside of Emma's door. He had been unusually quiet during the whole trip in front of the others, and a lot seemed to be on his mind, making him neutral and indifferent.

Emma stepped out soon and greeted him with a look. He had cleaned up and wore his preppy sweater and some slacks with leather brown shoes and replaced his visors with lighter sunglasses.

He stared at her for a moment and said, "So. This is what Emma Frost looks like. I never imagined it to be like this. Do you remember who I am?"

She coldly smiled, "Of course I do, Scott. Unlike you, I could see you as well, and that is not a face I could forget so easily, even with those ridiculous bandages obscuring your eyes. Now you have these sunglasses, but it still does not satisfy my curiosity of what lies under… Although, I have seen some more of what lies under the rest enough to satisfy me for a little while until curiosity desires more. They wouldn't allow me as a female guest to look in on you at the medical examining tables when you were out cold, completely vulnerable and completely exposed. The boxers were a prerequisite for when I was visiting. Cute."

Scott stiffened and his cheeks flushed red. He stuttered, "Y-you're calling me by my name now. Not just as an object… Must be a really humbling and low step for you. I didn't forget you either, but seeing you does help to sort of jog my memory and I feel as if I'm really meeting you for the first time again. I guess all our encounters will be hectic and dangerous, huh?"

Scott opened his mouth at the look she gave him, "Hey! You just did something to my head! How'd you do that? I completely skimped over what you said about me being held prisoner and operated on. I know you did that, I wouldn't just forget about something as serious as that. You were trying to hurt me back there! How could I forget?"

She smiled ruefully, "'Cause of my charm perhaps? Our chemistry affiliated from when we first met and maybe even raging hormones?"

He blushed and mumbled, "It was a slight push, but I felt it. I just feel like it wasn't important anymore. But, mind you, I live with telepaths, I know one when I-I- feel one…"

She nodded, "I'm aware, I can feel other forces present in your head, you have a powerful mind like a challenge almost. What it would be like to be able to make you do…anything.

He gulped and tried not to heed her ominous suggestion or threat.

She stepped closer to him, looked up, nose to nose, and touched the sides of his face and then his glasses. "Take them off, Summers. I want to see your eyes for once. The image of you, your face, has haunted me ever since we got away, ever since we were separated. I had dreams about it, never able to see your eyes."

He looked down impassively at her, then feebly, "I can't. You can't. I would literally kill you if I took them off, I destroy all that I look at."

She laughed merrily and exclaimed, "You forgot about me! How dare you! You were the only one who knew, silly. You can't hurt me, I'm made of diamond! I'm a big girl now, we're both older than the last time you met me. I can handle it, trust me."

Scott grimaced, "Trust you? Really? After all I just went through? We're still enemies as of now. Stop these mind games you're playing, they're not working, I know what you're doing. I'm not letting you get away."

She clasped his neck and coyly said, "Ooh, possessive are we? I like a guy who keeps a firm hold on me."

She placed her hands on his and relocated his on her slim waist, then put her hands back to his chest. She could feel his heart race and his unease, frozen and unsure of what to do.

She whispered closely to him, "Isn't it so much nicer when I'm there telling you what to do? Even when it's just to walk a step or turn somewhere if you can't see, but I can. I really can Scott."

She sighed, "What if I just told you to be reckless, for once? Tempting, isn't it. You were wrong about me facing patients and mutant subjects without hearing them. I always hear their thoughts; yours were harder to define at the time though. I always hear them, Scott, but unlike your little girl friend, I don't let them control me, affect my performance." At his bewildered expression, she let on, "When I have your guards down, like now, I can enter your mind freely and you have quite a delicious mind to enter, no matter how much you keep your thoughts to and for yourself. I like what I saw in there right now, I would love to be in your thoughts forever. You can do what you wanted to do to me in your mind, I'd allow it. You have a much more vivid imagination than imaginable. Oh, by the way, Mr. Summers, your hands. Get them off my hips. Now."

Scott looked down bewildered, saw them placed where she had placed them, and immediately took them off, flustered and confused. She pushed him back with a shove of her delicate hands to his chest and he grunted as he was caught off guard, and fell on his ass.

"Scott, what are you two doing?" Jean stood at the end of the hallway and was staring at them. Emma smirked and easily strode over to Jean, "You might've just overheard me telling Mr. Summers to keep his hands to himself. I suggest taking care of his deprivation of being starved in every way for so long while he was imprisoned. I suppose someone like you could take care of the specific need he was looking to me for."

Scott sprang up on his feet, disorientated, and gasped, "Uh, Jean! No, don't listen to her. She's um, well, not to be, uh trusted, you know."

Emma gleefully said, "What he means is, it's not what it looks like, he was actually just refraining me, but no bondage is necessary."

Jean shook her head in disbelief, she was still shaken by what Emma had suggested in relieving Scott of any lustful urges he might have.

Scott was shaking, not sure of what happened, and what had overcome his self-control. Just then, a vague voice in his head stated, "Darling, I wanted to keep my identity to you a mystery, I knew you wouldn't recognize me since you've never seen me before, but I wanted your blind memory of me to be kept stored in your head untarnished by our reunion."

A.N: Reviews would be appreciated :]


	2. Chapter 2

A.N.: Penelop C.E. Reed- thank you so much for your encouraging and flattering review! Hope you enjoy these next 2 chappies :D

I got re inspired to write this one shot on whim, but then decided I have too many open ended one shots I start and mean to finish but never do because I keep starting new stories everytime I get inspired. SO since most of my stories have somewhat similar plotlines, i decided to incorporate this one into the second chapter. Enjoy and please review!

Chapter II

Seriously?

A knuckle kneaded into the sturdy chin of a very serious-looking brown haired boy. Of course, one who knew Scott Summers would think he was probably just deep in thought or being serious as he always is, but that was the illusion of the ruby red sunglasses that masked his handsome face.

If one were telepathic however, like the thin long-legged girl with platinum hair sitting adjacent to him in the quiet dustiness that was the Xavier Institute's study room, they would have been able to read into his mind and find that he was far from being thoughtful and grim at the moment, with his chin propped on his fist. They would be able to sense that he was actually being quite more absent-minded than usual, with fleeting wistful thoughts and content silent observation all concentrated on the only one who could really read his thoughts at that moment if they wanted to.

As it is though, this girl, with a pair of rectangular glasses sliding down her straight and perfect nose, leaning head first into a novel, was quite uncharacteristically absent-minded as well on this fine afternoon. It was a rare moment, captured quietly in the studying lounge, a rare moment where two of the most stereo-typed and less-favorable and mirthless students irrelevant to each other of the institute were at peace and content in the drowsy moment, both absorbed in something of interest. In her case, an enchanting book she had cherished since childhood, "Atlas Shrugged." Something about the neo-classic cold heroine with a penchant for equally powerfully fierce and cold men intrigued the secret hopeless romantic in the glacial girl. As well as the superb story, intricate and insightful plot, and philosophy.

For him, his object of interest was simply the work of art that was a beautiful girl he was beginning to admire, reading in front of him, oblivious to the world around her.

Scott had toyed with the idea of swinging by the lounge lazily at hourly intervals, hoping he could catch the secretive Emma Frost having one of her many private times in the usually vacant area.

To her dismay, she was not the only occupant, and this growing realization was becoming more apparent as she became more aware of another person in her vicinity, her quiet space, and so she shut off her telepathy to avoid catching the usual snide remarks people thought of her, especially if they saw that she was reading. She knew how they felt about her and how she seemed to them, and intellect was not one of them.

The blonde finally sensed that there were eyes watching her, and unable to shake off the irritation of having been slightly disturbed from her dive into a good afternoon read, she thumbed her page and stared up pointedly at the intruder of her calm.

Silvery blonde hair twisted loosely into a messy bun at the top of the nape of her neck, sparkled momentarily as her head changed angles and hit the sun beams penetrating the stained glass window above her.

To her surprise, and not altogether as unpleasant as it would have been had her intruder been any other student she had expected, the somber Scott Summers was sitting in the arm chair across from hers, and well...just sitting.

Despite the fact that she was a very shrewd telepathic girl, her own girlish oblivion and the ruby glasses that hid and added much of the mystery to Scott Summers, she did not even guess that he was staring at her, enraptured, and the eyes she had sensed had been on her for quite a long amount of time before she was even aware.

Not one to show her surprise or even mere delight, the girl spoke demurely, "Oh, Scott, I didn't even notice anyone walking in! How long have you just been sitting there?"

Having been addressed, the boy seemed to break out of his stupor and jolted in a more upright position and regained his usual excellent posture. The book he had opened and flopped face down on his lap, forgotten, was back in front of his nose and he lifted a brow, "Oh hello Emma! Er, I'm sorry if I bothered you, I know you value being alone... I just er, came in because...I was looking...for a..." The boy pushed his red glasses back up his sun burnt nose, his eyebrows shot upwards in a baffled expression, and he glanced quickly at the object in his hands, and then finished with a smile, "book!"

The blonde girl across from him quirked an eyebrow and shrugged slowly, "I see. Well, no bother at all, this is a public domain after all, and your company isn't really half as much a bother as the others'."

The boy grinned to the side and his perpetual sun burnt and pink tinged cheeks and nose flushed even deeper, spreading underneath his brown tan.

"Really now?" He stopped himself and grunted in a revised, lower voice, "I mean, oh really. Well, that's good to know. Er, I'll let you get back to your reading. Don't mind me, I was enjoying watching you read, you looked so...um! I mean- I was enjoying reading my...book."

An uncomfortable squishing sound accompanied Scott as he sank lower into the chair, covering his face with the book now, one hand slapped to his forehead, and ruffling his brown hair.

A hint of curiosity now and aroused interest in the quiet and shy somewhat lonesome boy she sometimes ran into in the corridor due to his clumsiness, provoked the latch of Emma's willpower to open and let thoughts in.

She could hear Scott's thoughts muttering to himself, "Wow. . Classic Scott-move..."

She frowned slightly, he was feeling foolish and she could not really fathom why. She dared not probe deeper though...or should she? She decided she didn't really care enough and left the strange boy's thoughts alone and attempted to get back into her book.

It had taken a few months, but after the X-Men's leader had been abducted, submitted to torture from anti-mutant scientists, and mostly under the hand of Emma Frost, the initial clamor had faded into a veil of surface judgement and reputation around her.

Now, Emma, who was involuntarily but somewhat willing to attend the institute and pay her dues for her misdeeds and such, you know reformed villain and all, was on a mutually cold basis with the other students, merely ignoring them or not participating in conversation with them. This caused people to be uneasy around her, she was seen as unfriendly, but to herself, she was just being herself and none of these mutants were worth her time anyway, and she was just here for one thing, well a couple, but her father set her out for one thing.

Her beauty alienated her, and she alienated others, not caring to socialize at all.

She had quickly become bored with the futile sport of teasing Jean Grey and trying to flirt with a clueless Scott. Eventually, her flirtatious nature died down and she quickly detached herself from everyone, and Scott who was as elusive and oblivious as ever.

Finally, with growing irritation, she snapped her book down on her lap and looked up again, "What are you staring at?" she asked quite sharply.

Scott who had forgotten himself in that short lapse of time, jumped up again and picked his book back up, "Uh, s-sorry just, zoned out."

She was getting infuriated now and she didn't know why. It had grown from the time she had realized his presence, and maybe it was because she had kept so calm and distant, but some anger triggered in her, and was channeled to the boy who had been annoyingly staring at her while she was trying to focus on her book.

It was unreasonable, she knew, to be this angry, especially since he didn't know she could sense him, but it frustrated her nonetheless and in a fit, she tossed her book down to the carpeted floor and grumbled, "Well, now I lost my page and I can't get back _in _the zone. Why don't you go wipe your car down or pick some flowers for Jean Grey and let the people who want to read or study in peace in a designated study area be?" Which was unreasonable to say too because she knew no one else was in there or would venture to spend time in the studying lounge while she was in it especially. And most people used it as a make out room or study-cramming room anyway on the rare occasions it was inhabited.

She stared at him with a hatred and look that said she was blaming him for all of her anxiety and problems right now.

He stuttered, "I'm sorry! I-I shouldn't have come here, I got too distracted anyway."

He stood up, book in hand, "I'll-I'll just go then. Does her majesty own anywhere else us common people should know not to go? Like my room? Or the kitchen? I hope you're not allergic to me..or guys. I hear Mucinex doesn't quite compare to coke."

Her pink lips twitched irrepressibly into a snarl like grimace and the one graceful hand that she had rested on the arm of her chair, had crystallized in the afternoon sunlight and was clawed up, trailed by five straight lines that had dug into the furniture.

The boy bounded out of the study area and was followed by "Atlas Shrugged" which flew out of Emma's normal hand and hit the door post right where his head had been.

"Careful of what you dream tonight, Summers!", Emma called out to his retreating back. She slumped back in her seat, and angrily picked at a nail.

All plans of reading the afternoon away and returning to her favorite book disappeared and the seething ice queen tried to rub the nail scratches out of the plush velvet arm chair, with no avail. She hardly felt anything for anyone, even hate, which did come about once in a while, and right now she hated Summers' guts.

A.N.:don't forget to review!


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.: Please review! A petty quarrel turns serious.**

**Chapter 3**

The usual calm silence that accompanied the daytime hours during the late afternoons on weekends in the mansion, results of the students relaxing in their bedrooms or getting ready for their nights, was disturbed with the weight of a bucket of water dropping onto a zen sand garden.

The tranquil warm hue that washed over the mansion and made all things lazy, was stirred with the colors of chaos and an unspoken, nervous and alert buzz that comes from speculations.

Mutants splashed out of their rooms, one right after the other, filing downstairs in an disorderly and unorganized fashion like scattered droplets.

News spread around this mansion fast, like wildfire, only even quicker with the telepathic communication accounted for also.

The older mutants ran down the winding stair case and halted finally when they landed at the elevator panel doors by the back entrance that led down to the medical labs, Black Bird hanger, and various confidential compartments.

The tall lanky figure of Sam Guthrie was soon shoved out of the way by a Wolverine on a rampage.

This one-man rampage was followed quickly by the bristling bundle of blue fur that was Beast hurling himself after Logan, clearing the way as well from students. Hank's white lab coat coattails trailed after him in the air as he pounded on all fours, moving everything in sight, heavy furniture, or lighter people, he did not care, he was plowing the path as fast as a heavy mass like him could and then he was at the elevator door, pressing the right buttons, pushing in the right keys, and scanning his ID card over the glowing blue slot that beeped in recognition. A smattering of blood dotted the ends of his coattails.

Behind Hank, was what quieted the suddenly erupt and buzzing mansion. The sight silenced everyone who had strained their necks to look. As if noticing the bodies they had hauled out of the way for the first time, Logan, panting and snarling in a fit of adrenaline and sweat, blinked, looked around and thundered, "Everyone who wants to pass Fitness 101 with me, better haul ass back to their bedrooms and hope not to show their faces out here again. Understood? This corridor is closed off, as it always is to first level students."

Ororo stood behind Hank quietly, completely somber, and her usual personal affections and contact with the students, tendencies to wave, smile sweetly, or acknowledge them, had faded, as her weathered gray blue eyes were shaded as she looked down worriedly, and completely absent-minded at the mangled and unrecognizable face on the stretcher before her.

Her long white summer gown wrapped around her long sleek form, billowing slightly at her brown toes that peeked out of beaded sandals. Her long white hair twisted around her back and brushed briefly over his bloody head, staining the pure white satin slowly from the tips.

Retreating students slowly stopped as another loud sound disrupted the tension, the banging of a hollow oaken door, rushing feet tapping on marble tiles, and then the whirlwind of red hair, crinkly bags, and a box of take out, that was Jean Grey, hurried in, announcing her arrival by rushing towards the closing elevator doors. "Where's Scott! I came as soon as I heard, where is he?"

A motionless Kitty pointed towards the steel doors that were coming together, and in an impulsive act, Jean lunged forward with her arm in front, threw her hand out and shot a telekinetic bolt that stopped the doors from closing.

She pried both her hands between the wedge of the doors sliding close and frantically called out, "Scott!"

Scott did not come out of the elevator, instead, a furious Logan jumped out from the wedge and with an arm, swept Jean to the side.

He roared, "NOW IS NOT THE TIME! WE NEED TO GET HIM SOME HELP! STAY OUT OF THIS AND GO UPSTAIRS YOUNG LADY!"

Panting ferociously, and looking levelly at Jean whose shocked and wet green eyes instantly hardened, Logan pointed towards the stairs and heaved, "Go."

Planting both sandaled feet to the marble tile floor, Jean stubbornly stayed rooted. She said calmly with a sharp reprimand to her youthful voice, "Mr. Logan, you need to get out of the way. I cut my date short with Duncan and had him drop me here as fast as I could! Please don't tell me that I can't see Scott, my b-best friend. You know he'd want to see me, I need to be there for him!"

Logan shook his head gruffly, "You don't understand, he's getting medical attention, he'll be fine, and when he is, you'll get to see him."

Jean leaned forward and demanded, "What happened!"

Wolverine shook his head again, "Once this resides, you'll find out, but for Chrissakes, Jean, would you be a damn leader and help us out a bit, it's gonna unsettle the kids to see you like this, just go up and calm them, reassure them, all the fuss is unnecessary and disorderly."

Tears burst forward from the clear green eyes of Jean Grey. "Oh Logan! How can I reassure them when even I'm not? I have no clue what's going on! I don't know what to think! My Scott could be dead for all I know! I can't hear his thoughts, Logan!"

To keep what will he had to not slash the air in front of him, and roll his eyes or laugh inappropriately, Logan snarled, "Jean. Get. Out. of. Here."

After a few moments of silence and stubborn glares, Jean left with a final huff and stomped away, up the stairs to the girls' wing. The layer of students that coated the walls at the top of the stairs, shifted in unison as eyes followed her and shushed whispers.

Had Jean been able to hear Scott's thoughts still, in his unconscious state, she would have heard his last ones framed and running around in his vacant head like a broken recorder.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Should not have said that. Why did I say those things? Said such nasty things to her...Stupid stupid, shouldn't have said such nasty things to her. Dammit. Wait, what the-"

However, Jean now upstairs and furiously sobbing on the phone to her sister Sarah, and the cause of hushed appalled whispers of, "Did you see?...Can't believe she was with Duncan...the nerve?...Poor Scott...She's so demanding...imagine!...Why is she even here...yeah right..." (Segmented whispers), and unable to hear the thoughts of the boy she so claimed to love.

As the day's excitement and scare settled down, the students cautiously peeked their heads out their doors to see if it was alright to come out.

Approaching dinnertime, another clamor downstairs caught their curious attentions, and a question that had not even been thought of due to lack of care, was, Where is Emma Frost?

She had certainly not shown up when all the other students were rushing to see what was the matter. This easily escaped their buzzing notice though, since Frost was rather elusive, exclusive, and not well-liked in company.

Typical of her to show up oblivious and uncaring of the mansion's events.

Kitty, Jubilee, Kurt, and Amara who were munching on the carpet of Kitty's bedroom floor with popcorn and pop rocks, immediately silenced themselves, sat up straighter, and quirked their ears when Emma Frost's lazily elegant designer shoe footsteps did not sound up the stairs and down the girls' wing to her room.

After a few more moments of silence, Kurt widened his eyes, held a finger to his lips, staring at the girls, then enveloped them with his arms and disappeared in a flash of smoke and static.

He reappeared with the girls uncomfortably in tow at the foot of the basement levels' secret emergency escape stairs diagonal from the elevators.

A couple doors down, was the medical lab and a big open gridded window to some of the clinic rooms.

Tiptoeing, the small group made their way through the walls thanks to Kitty's help, and landed in the medical wing, where an unconscious Scott was on a respirator, head bandaged up and nearly unrecognizable. His glasses had been removed, and in place, heavy bindings of some sort around his eyes. Pieces of solid ruby could be seen poking out from underneath, being bound to his eye sockets.

Next to him, Jean had finally captured her place and was cradling his idle hand in hers, rubbing it against her cheek.

The footsteps that had been absent upstairs, made their way into the wing much to everyones' surprise.

Hank, who had just emerged from a door off to the side, was immediately thrown a question from Jean who spat out, "What is she doing here?"

Emma Frost, not pausing from her gait, carefully walked up to the bed and stopped at the foot.

She flicked her eyes down to the side momentarily, sweeping for a millisecond upon the body and face of the boy whose guts she hated.

Then, she said in a monotone voice, "I heard what happened and wanted to see how the team leader was doing."

Jean choked, "team leader?"

Hank raised his furry paw to silence anymore from Jean and looked seriously at Emma, "Yes, Ms. Frost, it's very touching of you to come down and visit, of course I don't know how you got past the authorization to get down here on your own, but regardless, thank you for coming by.

Emma set down about a dozen paper shopping bags with various emblems and logos of designers that were almost costly to even name drop.

The calm in the air about her was like dry electric crackling underneath the smooth exterior.

Was it...frazzled?

Jean squinted, "Where were you? Surely you would have heard announcements or just thoughts of the commotion here."

Emma paused, opened her mouth, then looked back coldly at the body in the bed and only addressed Hank.

"I came...as fast as I could possibly come after a brief shopping urge. Retail therapy...it's my go-to. I assure you that I did not do this to him..." she spoke quietly, "I did not hit him, it was all an accident."

Jean's jaw dropped, and the few nosy snoops all but fell through the wall they were lodged in.

**A.N: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REIVEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEASE!**


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